Addiction
by medicalfanatic
Summary: "The corners of her pink lips curved into a smile as she scooped up the pot of chips. Adrenaline peaked in her brain - this is what she played for...what she lived for." - An alcoholic and gambling addict realise they have more in common than they realise... (Cabenson/AO, F/F)
1. Uncontrolled

**Hi everyone, hope you enjoy! (I know the character's identity are kinda obvious, but you'll just have to pretend you don't know who they are!) :)**

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Gambler

"All in." The blonde commanded, pushing her huge mound of chips into the middle of the green felt. Blazing aquamarine eyes challenged any of the players to oppose her bet. Adrenaline surged through her veins - she had just bet over $5000 on a low straight flush. In her hand stood the 5, 4, 3, 2 and ace of clubs; not bad by her standards, but beatable. Some of the men surrounding the table raised their eyebrows; rarely did the blonde bet all-in on the earlier games. Currently, the ante was only $150, and she was on her third bourbon. Everyone knew that the big bets usually came from the blonde after the third or fourth game (and fifth or sixth drink). All the players around the poker table that night were regulars. After all, it was 11pm on a regular Tuesday night and therefore only the hardcore players remained at the club. The club itself was definitely illegal, but the blonde knew exactly what she was walking into and liked the fact that no-one from the club would speak to her outside. She was widely respected in the club - in fact, she was revered by many because she was known for spending huge amounts, sometimes surpassing $10,000, in an ordinary night. Bearing in mind that she frequented the club every other night, she was betting away several tens of thousands of dollars each week. It was no secret that this woman was addicted to gambling. Furthermore, everyone knew, the blonde included, that gambling would be her downfall. Even though she had tried going cold turkey before, it was inconceivable to her. As long as there was money in her bank, she wasn't able to withstand staying away from the poker table for more than 4 days. Her gambling was more predictable than the sunrise. When she was miserable, she'd gamble to feel the buzz - when she was happy, she'd gamble to stay happy. Increasing amounts of her time were spent playing illegally set-up poker games in the underground club, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Just as an itch needs to be scratched, she needed to gamble. Perhaps if she had someone to go home to the gambling would've stopped a long time ago. But, seeing as she lived alone, worked very long hours, and had inordinate amounts of money from a well-paid job and various trust funds, there was nothing in the world that could stop this gambler's addiction.

"Same here. I'm all in." Came from a gruff, dark-eyed man with a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead. He placed all his chips into the centre of the table. Seeing as the man had no choice but to fold, match or raise the previous bet (and he believed he held a good hand), he had decided bet all in. He couldn't tell if the woman was bluffing or not; recently, she'd become superb at hiding previous, minute tells like clasping her drinking glass when she had a bad hand. As always, the players tried to avoid eye contact; playing in this club could land them a prison stint and seriously tarnish their reputations. There were several high-status players (including two state lawyers, a federal cop and three millionaire businessmen), and a raid would lead to lost profits and jobs. Thus, there was no trust amongst the players.

All the other poker players around the table folded consecutively. Bets were far too high to match this early on in the night. Seeing as both of the remaining players had betted all in, it was time to reveal their hands. Simultaneously, the two opponents flipped their hands face up on the emerald felt. The man held a Jack, 9, 7, 2 and ace of diamonds flush - a decent hand, but defeated by the woman's straight flush. An exultant breath escaped the blonde; the corners of her pink lips curved into a smile as she scooped up the pot of chips. Adrenaline peaked in her brain - this is what she played for...what she lived for. Her rouged cheeks were warm with exhilaration. Including the ante, she had just won over $7000.

"Fuck!" The gruff man shouted before draining the last of his whisky. Anger over his misplaced arrogance swam in those dark eyes. Perhaps the blonde would've pitied him in her earlier days but, seeing as he'd probably just win it all back from her tomorrow, she didn't feel too bad. Still riding the high, she stood up, drank the rest of her bourbon and cashed in her chips.

"Put this on my tab please." She husked to the cashier. There was no point in taking the money home or even cashing in the chips - she knew she'd spend all her winnings here in the next few days. Occasionally, she'd stay and talk to some of her associates, but today she'd come purely to get her fix. With a thrilling and unexpected win coursing through her veins, she left the club.

Drinker

"Another double please." The brunette woman sitting at the bar quietly demanded. She handed her glass to the barman for a refill. Shakily, she raised the glass to her rouge lips and took three large gulps. Black pupils widened with happiness as the dark, swirling whisky coursed through her veins, inducing a blissful sense of contentment. She finally allowed herself to relax. But her drinking was different from most other people's, as it was through no choice of her own that she relied on alcohol - drinking allowed her to finally forget. The woman's job was extremely stressful and brought many moral challenges; without alcohol, she was forced to relive her most painful memories, most of which involved her occupation. Unfortunately for both her wallet and liver, the brunette found solace at the bottom of a liquor glass.

"Another please." She quietly nodded to the barman again, slowly sliding forward her glass. She glanced at her silver watch; seeing as it was quarter to 11 on a Tuesday night and she had work tomorrow, she decided to make this drink her last. After months of heavy drinking almost every night, her body was capable of handling a lot of drink - now was no exception. Although her brain felt tired and fuzzy, her body was as alert and quick as it was when she was sober. Her plump, pink lips were arced into a blissful smile, a lazy heartbeat resonating throughout her body. Finally relaxed, she closed her heavy eyelids. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing that made her feel so...untroubled. The thought of drowning her sorrows always got her through a bad day.

Draining the dregs of her glass, the olive-skinned, brunette woman stood up and headed out of the bar into the frosty night.


	2. Solace

**Here's the next instalment, as always any reviews/faves are greatly appreciated. Enjoy! :)**

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A damp, mouldy odour lingered in the evening air. The room was depressing, with peeling blue wallpaper and rough wooden floors. Cold breezes whirled through the room, creating a permanent chill. 15 plastic chairs were organised in a wide circle, with a big oak table moved to the side. A sign saying 'Addicts Anonymous Thursday 8:30-9:30pm' hung on the window. There had been a big movement through NYC recently to have more generalised addiction meetings; having sufferers of different addictions talk together seemed to help recovery and understanding of other people.

At 8:30, people began to file in through the open doors, dragging their feet and with begrudging eyes glued to the floor. Some people, such as the brunette woman, had chosen to be there. Others, such as several of the older men, were there as part of a rehab and recovery program ordered by the government or their doctors to attend the meetings. The brunette woman sat on the chair closest to the door. She felt nervous being here; it had taken a lot of courage for her to admit she needed help and to go and get it. Her boss, a recovering alcoholic, had recommended the group leader, therefore leaving her with little choice but to go. She hadn't planned to tell anyone of her drinking problem, but an addict can always recognise another.

"Hello everyone! I'm Marty, the group leader. I'm so happy you're here and you're already on the path to recovery and overcoming your addiction by being here. Today is the start of a new month, so we'll start by introducing ourselves and our addiction." Marty was a kind-eyed, black man with a snaking tattoo sleeve running up his right, well-endowed bicep. His body language was welcoming and open; friendliness was exceptionally important in helping addicts realise that they are not alone.

"Hi, I'm Alexandra and I'm a gambling addict." The blonde murmured shyly to the rest of the group. The brunette woman sitting opposite her suddenly jerked her head up - she'd recognise that velvet, rich as molasses voice anywhere. As they became locked in each other's gaze, sparks flew. A fire ignited between the two women; as always, the sexual tension between them was undeniable. You could cut the sudden tension with a knife.

"I-I'm Olivia and I'm an alcoholic." The brunette husked. She was a detective for the NYPD SVU at the 1-6, and Alex was the NYC A.D.A who often worked alongside the SVU. There had always been...something unexplainable between the two women, but they'd so far both ignored the unassailable pull. Ever since they'd first met, both had wanted to take their relationship further but neither dared threatening the strong friendship they already had. Then again, Alex's company made Olivia feel nothing short of euphoric; seeing Olivia in the 1-6 made Alex's heart soar higher than heaven. Clearly, the growing desire between the two women wasn't undeniable for much longer. Alex's eyes bore into the brunette's soul, discovering every one of her secrets. At the same time, the A.D.A couldn't bear to look away from Olivia, eternally captured by her beauty.

The rest of the meeting flew by. Time seemed to fluctuate whilst the women looked at each other; their unspoken bond harboured more energy than a supernovae explosion. Everyone and everything else became irrelevant when they were in each other's company - it was a miracle they managed to get work done together at the 1-6. Before they knew it, the meeting was over and people were leaving. Marty was packing up the chairs as they approached each other.

"Alex. I didn't expect to see you here." A tinge of a sorrow leaked into the detective's voice. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she looked over the A.D.A. Alex looked...sad. Broken.

"Same...I didn't know you were struggling. Liv I wish you'd have told me."

"Alex! I wish you'd have told me!" Olivia clasped Alex's cold, shaking hands. The meeting had taken a lot of the attorney's strength away, leaving her weak and slightly shivering. Alex collapsed into Olivia's chest, immediately welcomed by the detective's protective arms. If only those arms could protect her from her inner turmoil. At the back of Olivia's mind, the constant reminder to drink became more persistent as soon as she drew away from Alex's body. Demons itched to escape and fill her mind with her worst memories.

"Alex...please come home with me tonight? I know it's forward but-"

"Of course I will. I know exactly how you're feeling; if I go home alone I'll find it extremely hard to resist the poker table."

"Exactly. If you stay, I'll have a reason not to drink. Thanks Alex."

Olivia's hazel eyes were filled with gratitude as she smiled softly at the attorney. Hidden behind black-rimmed glasses, Alex's eyes glittered with renewed hope. The two women remained holding hands as they left the room and entered the warm night.

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Evening sun threw amber beams across the detective's apartment. Scents of coffee lingered in the warm air as the two women opened the door.

"Sit down, I'll make you some coffee." Olivia murmured softly to the attorney, who quickly sat down on the brown leather sofa. They were each doing the other woman a great favour by being together; it prevented Olivia from drinking herself into oblivion, and it prevented Alex from gambling until the sun came up.

Alex thanked the detective as she handed her a blue mug of coffee. She wrapped her elegant hands around the hot cup and moved closer to Olivia, huddling up to the detective's inviting body. Warmth filled Alex's limbs. Whilst nestled up together, both women found complete comfort and bliss.

"Alex...what can I do to help you?" Olivia whispered into the A.D.A's ear, gently winding the blonde's hair through her fingers.

Thoughtfully, Alex considered all the things she'd have to forfeit if she gave up gambling - the buzz, the adrenaline rush, the thrill. But surely there was another way to experience them? She just just had to find it.

"Help me find a way find get the same excitement as I found in gambling, and I promise I'll never gamble again." Alex spoke softly. Eyes wide with honesty, she reached for Olivia's waiting hands.

"We're going to find something that makes you feel so fucking amazing you're going to forget poker even exists." Olivia solemnly promised; she reassuringly squeezed the attorney's hand and left a lingering kiss on her cheek. With her other hand, Olivia swept blonde hair back off Alex's face, revealing her beautiful features. Running her thumb slowly across the attorney's pronounced, flushed cheekbones, the detective resolutely decided she would do whatever it took to help Alex.

The A.D.A's heart soared. She had never experienced the level of attention and love Olivia gave her; more often than not, people only cared about Alex if they got something in return. Olivia cared because she cared. Simple as. Overwhelmed with the detective's kind, swimming eyes, Alex broke eye contact and looked around the living room; everything was so homely and warm. Suddenly, she saw several whisky and red wine bottles hiding behind the toaster.

Alex stood up abruptly and quickly opened all the bottles. She didn't give the detective a chance to argue before she poured them all down the sink simultaneously.

"Alex! What the fuck?" Olivia slammed down her coffee cup and ran over to the sink. Scents of alcohol lingering in the air sent Olivia's brain into overdrive. The detective inhaled sharply whilst hopelessly tried to grab the bottles off Alex, desperate to save some of her precious alcohol.

When the last drop had fallen from the bottles, Olivia began to cry. She hated the dependency she had on alcohol, but she couldn't help but give in to the emotions that overwhelmed her. Sobs wracked her whole body, causing her legs to weaken. As the brunette slowly collapsed, Alex dropped the bottles and caught her. Olivia knew that, although it hurt now, Alex had done the right thing and it comforted the detective to know Alex clearly cared about her. Olivia was equally devoted to the attorney, but she just had to find a way to help her.

"Thankyou." The honest tone of Olivia's voice made Alex realise just how grateful the detective really was.

Eventually, the pair found themselves in the detective's welcoming double bed. Down feather pillows and duvets surrounded the pair - if there was one thing Liv was good at, it was being comfortable. The two women were happily spooning, Olivia's body protectively wrapped around the attorney's smaller frame. Limbs entangled, no position had ever felt so natural and right to either women. Soon enough, two heartbeats had synchronised to beat as one.

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02:56AM flashed red on the alarm clock. Alex suddenly sat up, her breathing laboured. As she started to get out of the bed, when she was intercepted by the quick detective's arms. The attorney fought against the detective's entrapment, but to no avail. Alex continued trying to escape Olivia's cocoon, but the detective kept the attorney prisoner until she felt her muscles relax and her breathing calm down. Sobs wracked through her fragile frame, rising in pitch as she realised she wasn't able to gamble. The detective's fingers caressed Alex's flushed cheeks, wiping away the streams of salty tears.

"Where are you going? What's wrong Al?" An edge of panic infiltrated Olivia's sleepy voice.

"Poker. I play at this time." Alex then continued to hopelessly struggle against the detective's strong arms. Even though the attorney wanted to stay in bed with Olivia, the urge to go to the gambling club was too big to ignored. Eventually, she collapsed against Olivia's body, her chest heaving from exertion. The detective had decided to wear Alex out before talking to her; the compulsion to give into her addiction glinted in the A.D.A's ice blue eyes. Usually Olivia was the complicated one in a relationship. But it was now clear that Olivia wasn't the only one in this pair that came with baggage.

"Alex, it's okay. You need to hold off and stay strong. It's hard, I know, but you're stronger than this. Old habits die hard, but they do die eventually. You can do this. Shh.. it's okay." Olivia whispered to Alex, whilst stroking her blonde hair and laying reassuring kisses on the attorney's head. Alex wrapped her weary arms around Olivia and sighed into her chest, having finally stopped weeping.

"I know. Sorry for w-waking you." Alex breathed, her voice husky with sleep. Guilt filled her wide eyes; the attorney couldn't help but feel like a burden to Olivia.

"No way. Anytime you need me, day or night, I'm here for you. Alex we're, you're, going to get through this."

Both women slept soundlessly for the rest of the night, content smiles playing upon both of their lips. Nightmares that usually haunted Olivia when she was sober made no appearance - nothing troubled the detective whilst she was next to Alex.


	3. Sober

**Wow! The update took ages but this chpt is finally finished, and so is the story. I'm well aware that addiction isn't that easy to overcome, but both Alex and Liv are extremely strong women and I do believe that they could overcome many things together. Anyways enjoy :)**

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Olivia held her silver chip up to the light. Glinting in the morning sun, this piece of plastic signified her 1 month sobriety - pride swelled in the detective's chest. Liv and Alex had alternated nights at each other's apartments, sleeping beside each other every night without fail for the past month. The detective had relapsed only once, giving in to a shady downtown bar on her way home from one of the worst and most stressful days at work. But ever since then, if she ever felt the urge to drink, she'd phone the attorney. Alex would come, pick Olivia up and take her home, all whilst offering a kind shoulder to cry on.

And Olivia was no different. Alex tried to avoid any known gambling areas, preferring not to tempt fate. Twice, the detective had found Alex passed out over a stack of chips at local gambling clubs - Alex was strong, but not that strong. Kicking this gambling addiction was one of the hardest challenges the attorney had faced in her life, but with Olivia by her side Alex felt confident she'd see the end of this nightmare. Over time, Alex had learnt to control her midnight poker urges, consciously choosing instead to remain in bed with Olivia. In fact, as the time passed, both the detective and A.D.A began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. In some way, both women felt responsible towards each other; when Alex wanted to gamble or Olivia wanted to drink, they each thought of how disappointed the other woman would feel and it helped curb their urges. Both women were starting to see past the pain of withdrawal and to the benefits of giving up their habits. Olivia hadn't woken up with a hangover in over a month now, and she couldn't be more grateful. Grateful not only to the sobriety program, but to Alex as well. Furthermore, Olivia had started to see a psychiatrist; when she had a problem and felt overwhelmed, she turned to him instead of a bottle of whiskey. At the start of her alcoholism, the detective would find herself, half-conscious, in shady downtown bars with little knowledge of how she got there. More often than not, she returned home a complete mess, with no hope in her heart of ever recovering and pulling herself out of this deep, alcohol-filled chasm. Now, thanks to her sobriety, Olivia was able to finally see clearly again. It had been hard, but it was starting to feel completely worth it.

Suddenly, the detective felt delicate arms wrapping round her waist. A smile lit up her whole face as she turned around to face Alex. A shining chip was spinning between the attorney's agile fingers which proved her 1 month gambling sobriety.

"Marty said the first month is the hardest. Liv we've managed it, I know-

"We can do it forever. I agree. I believe in us both Al. These chips are the mark of something new. I swear to god I'm not gonna touch another drop of alcohol."

"And I swear to you that I'm never going to gamble again. Babe, if we can do this, we can do anything." Alex promised earnestly. Upon hearing the word 'babe' leave the attorney's mouth, Olivia couldn't help the warm tingle that spread over her whole body. Heart beating faster, the detective kissed Alex's forehead and clasped both her hands.

"Come on detective, can't be late for work..." Alex teased, a mischievous glint in her sky-blue eyes as she gently pulled Olivia towards the door.

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They entered the 1-6 together. Although not holding hands and remaining professional at all times, only an idiot would be blind to their relationship. Shared glances and the ever-present sexual tension that twisted like a knife whenever they touched told everyone in the precinct of their relationship. Elliot could see the twinkle in Liv's eyes - he had never seen his partner more happy than when she was around Alex. He'd also noticed that Olivia's 'hidden' hangovers had stopped, and he gratefully accounted her sobriety to Alex. Unbeknownst to both women, all Liv's co-workers had clocked onto her drink problem. Perhaps she'd shown the same tell-tale signs as Cragen had. Anyways, there was no-one in the 1-6 who didn't care for Det. Benson; therefore, as long as she was doing okay, then no-one really cared who she was sleeping with.


End file.
